


Boxing with a beast

by OhhMyy



Series: Coming Back To Life. [12]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Language, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 02:11:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8471554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhhMyy/pseuds/OhhMyy
Summary: Living with a group of heroes means you need to know how to protect yourself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of past domestic violence, PTSD, Language. I appreciate all of you reading but please do not put yourself at risk to do so. 
> 
> Split into 3 chapters just for convenience for me but all finished at the same time.

He’d been confused by Tony’s insistence that he teach Charlie self-defense, confused as to why she needed it and why he’d been the one Tony asked (“She already spends enough time with Clint, Banner code greens and Natasha would kick the crap out of her” was the answer to that particular question) but he reasoned that living with the Avengers came with a unique set of risks and it was important that she be prepared.

He’s not prepared for Charlie’s flat out refusal to spar with him when he’d asked her over lunch. Tony may have conveniently forgotten to mention said training to her so now he looked like an idiot. Charlie slides his plate out from under him, dumping it in the sink and turns to face him; leaning against the counter, arms folded in front of her. He wants to tell her he’ll go gentle, teach her the basics without much practical sparring but she’s glaring daggers at him, face contorted into the bitchiest look he’s ever seen on the normally smiling face and he momentarily forgets how to speak.

“Why do I want to fight you?” She asks, voice full of contempt where minutes previously laughter had sat.

“You don’t. Tony said you needed to learn” He lifts his hands in a vague shrug, turning his palms to face her as if to show he means no harm

“Tony says a lot of stupid things for someone who’s so clever”

“He said you needed self-defense” Her face turns ashen and she snaps her mouth closed, retort dying on her tongue. She eyes him for a moment, weighing him (and her options) up, glancing around as if considering how far she can sprint before he catches up with her. She must reason that she can’t actually get very far because she stays firmly in place and turns her eyes to the floor, suddenly interested in the linoleum tiles beneath her toes. She heaves a slow, measured sigh and crinkles her toes against the cold floor.

“I don’t want…I can’t…Can you not just say we did?”  He eyes her with soft contemplation, he’s seen her complete all sorts of strange tasks around the house; engage in a friendly war with Clint that meant she crawled through the air ducts, arm wrestle with Thor in a genuine attempt to beat him, hula for ten minutes with no break and end up in a heap on the floor dressed in Hawaiian garb when said hula hooping for ten minutes ended, without so much as batting an eyelid and he’d confused as to why this specific task is being met with such resistance; can't imagine there'd be anymore embarrassment involved with this than with their daily lives.

“I could, but that’s hardly going to help in an emergency is it?” His tone is soft, placating despite having no clue why, he suddenly sees the similarity between her and Tony; the need to speak as if to a frightened animal ready to bolt. His eyes are soft but confusion whirs behind his Pupils. 

“In an emergency I’ll hide behind Banner, Dude’s like a wall when he gets going” She raises her gaze to him again, smirk in place and nodding encouragingly, trying to convince him that is a solid and well thought through plan. She brings her arms up to mime just how big Hulk is. 

Bucky snorts but stands, walking around the counter to mirror her stance on the opposite counter, folding his arms and leaning backwards. He pauses for a moment to take her in, sees her smirk falter as she notes the softness on his face. 

“And what happens if Bruce isn’t here and an Alien mastermind tries to take over the city?” He’s looking at her waiting for an answer, eyes bulging out slightly teasing but firm and she feels like a toddler who has been caught drawing on the walls.

“I don’t think that’s what Tony’s worried about”

“Then tell me what he is worried about” He challenges. It’s been roughly 3 months since she moved in and it hasn’t escaped his notice that she doesn’t really go out alone – not for lack of trying on a few occasions. Tony watches her like a hawk and smothers her with questions and even Natasha seems subdued with her usual brand of affection (more commonly known as affectionate slapping of her friends and insulting them playfully), opting instead for gentle touches. He has been with her enough to know that she is guarded, has walked into conversations that stop in their tracks. 

“I’ll do it, tell me when we start” He ignores her sudden change of opinion, knows that it’s an effective way to shut him out of her business and instead thinks quickly to his plans for the day; unsure if he is disappointed by her lack of sharing of pleased by her agreement.

“I’m not busy this afternoon?”

“Get it over with, good idea!” She’s all enthusiastic sarcasm as she pushes herself forward from the counter. She ignores the dishes in the sink and he takes that as a form of punishment he’s expected to complete as she skirts around him and walks from the room without so much as a backwards glance.

“Meet me in the gym in an hour” She doesn’t reply but he hedges his bets that she’s heard him.


	2. Chapter 2

She enters the gym later than planned, offering no explanation or apology. Her hair is tied tight on her head and she’s covered in sweatpants and a long sleeved T-shirt, he thinks it’s odd that she wears more clothes to work out than he’s seen her in for most of the past few months; living in a mix between bohemian and what he fondly thinks of as short and vest chic (ashamed to admit just how fondly he has come to think of that specific combination). He tries not to be offended and reasons that she’s uncomfortable enough training with him and probably doesn’t want to be half dressed as well as nervous, he’s not unfamiliar with the idea of clothing as armor.

“I thought we’d start with some offensive stuff, I want to see how you hit and fight before you block” He says gently, glancing up at her as the door swings shut behind her.

“Great, just what I always wanted. First this and then maybe Tony will buy me a pony” She flashes him a sardonic smile and a thumbs up and for a second his feelings are genuinely hurt.  

She sighs, strapping her hands with boxing tape and wanders to the other side of the room to meet him, her entire stance screams hesitation and he briefly considers that he doesn’t want to make her do anything she doesn’t want to; he’s about to suggest they stop when she comes back, shoulders raised and frame tense.

“I don’t want to hit you” She’s pleading but she’s rocking on her feet like she’s ready. He thinks for a brief moment that the anger she has about doing this might contradict that sentence but her eyes are wide open and looking into his in question. He holds up his hands, covered in the boxing pads to indicate it’s not him she’ll be hitting and gestures her to start. He nods encouragingly and offers praise when she lifts a fist.

“Fuck, I’m rubbish at this” she puffs out as she aims a hit to one of the pads, harder than he thought she’d manage but she chuckles nervously after landing the blow and backs away from him on the heels of her feet, half ready to go again and half ready to bolt.

“That was good, do it again” She does as he says but there’s no effort behind it.

“Come on Doll, what about a kick?” She does as he asks with surprising ease and lands her foot higher than expected but with no strength; he knows she’s pussy footing around. He knows she’s stronger than she’s letting on, has seen the muscle definition on her body when she wanders through the house in the aforementioned short and vest chic and when she contorts her body to music. He has watched in awe as she holds her body in impossible positions with fluidity and grace but even he'll admit sparring it different.

His best guess is that as long as she plays along with him she can say she’s had training and nobody will be able to fight that on a technicality. He almost admires her logic.

For a few minutes they repeat the routine, some of her hits land hard and others she puts no effort into. He’s figured that her coordination is fine and thinks that if a situation called for it she’d be alright in a fight but he wants to see how her defensive skill are; knowing an attacker will not pull punches as a member of the group will. He’s going on the instructions from Stark but he cares about her enough to need reassurance she can hold her own.

He tells her as much and pulls the pads from his hands, passing them to her as she uncoils the tape from her palms. She pales as she holds them and when he looks back at her she’s not putting them on; staring at them as her body stands completely still.

“Doll, you have to put them on if we’re gonna do this”

“I don’t want to do this” He’s missed something important, her expression has shuttered and he doesn’t hear the waver in her voice, mistaking her quiet response for her usual brand of sarcasm.

He rolls his eyes at her and snickers at her hesitance but as he moves quickly to stand in front of her in an attempt to help her put them on she flinches; turning into cowering in the blink of an eye, arms up over her head and he knows without thinking she’s expecting a full body blow, her whole body tense to make a hit hurt less but she’s not making an attempt to move away. He’s torn between horror that she thinks he’d ever hurt her and a sudden nausea burning at the back of his throat because he knows that’s not a reaction learnt without experience; a normal response to violence is fight or flight but she’s doing neither, whole body screaming that she is expecting a blow and doing nothing to stop it. She’s shaking clearly and he knows something has changed drastically and with incredibly speed.

He moves slowly to take the pads from her hands but as his fingers graze hers she lets out a loud sob, violently flinching away from him but dropping the pads to the floor and her hands to her sides. He crouches on his knees to meet her height but doesn’t dare move any closer to her. There are tears in her eyes when he looks at her face and her lip is quivering before she collapses to the floor; whispering something repeatedly. He strains to hear and loses his breath when he does, shutting his eyes against the pain that hits his chest dead center.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t, I’m sorry”

He’s silent as he looks her over, her hands have come up the shield her face and she’s pulled her knees in to protect her stomach and he doesn’t think she’s ever looked quite so small. He’s had suspicions for months and they’ve been all but confirmed in the past few moments.

“Oh Doll, what did he do to you?” It’s rhetorical, he knows, his urge to comfort her with touch overridden by the knowledge that it will only make things worse but the words come out broken after trying to squeeze past the lump in his throat. He stands, rushes to the gym door, keeping his eyes on her and yells for Tony, aware that even if he’s not used to talking to F.R.I.D.A.Y, someone will hear.

It’s less than a minute before Tony rushes in, skidding on the floor and almost toppling over in his haste. Bucky feels helpless, watches from the centre of the room as Tony gets on his knees in front of her, reaching out slowly to wrap her in his arms as she unfurls cautiously. She stops whispering and buries her face against Tony’s chest once she’s ascertained there is no danger.

“That’s it Kid, it’s just me. That’s it, you’re fine” He sees her nodding against Tony’s chest as her arms edge around his waist, fingers twisting tightly in the fabric of his t-shirt. “That’s it, you’re fine, it’s okay. Can you stand up for me?” He’s never heard Tony be this gentle but he knows the pair share a close bond. Charlie gets to her feet, eyes on the floor and Tony puts his arm around her shoulders, leading her out of the gym. He nods at Bucky as he exits. Bucky, safely assuming he shouldn’t follow starts to clear the equipment away, heart squeezed tight.


	3. Chapter 3

“Thanks for the heads up Tony!” He yells at the billionaire, hands in his hair as Tony paces in front of him. They’re standing in Bucky’s room, Stark having come to update him; he’s been gone most of the evening as has Charlie; Bucky can only assume together. He’s already sure he’s got most of what’s happening figured out, he is not a stupid man for all his self-perceived flaws. Tony looks less composed than usual and Bucky's almost certain he's been holding his breath for the past few hours, his eyes burn in Starks direction. 

“It’s not my place to tell you shit Barnes!" He roars, turning on his heels to scream in Bucky's direction "What, you think I’ll introduce her with ‘watch out, some asshole used to beat the shit out of her’!?” Despite everything that afternoon, the confirmation from Stark hits him like a slap in the face and he has to clench his fists at his sides to stop from grasping at the air around him.

“No but then maybe don’t try and get to me box with her!”

“I…yeah alright” Tony runs a hand through his own hair before bringing it down to scratch at his beard, his voice having lost all bite “I’m sorry, okay? This wasn’t one of the greatest ideas”

He wants to bark out a retort about being an idiot and this being the worst idea possible but the man looks genuinely crushed; Bucky doesn’t doubt that the second Tony leaves here he’s heading back to Charlie and he wants this conversation over for as that as much as he wants Stark out of his hair. He also doesn't doubt that Tony will punish himself for this mistake for at least the rest of his natural life and for longer if he finds a way to make it possible.

“Can I see her?” He asks as Tony turns to leave.

“I don’t know. Come by her room later but if she says no then it’s a no”

“Of course” He’d not dare disregard her feelings even if it hurt him; he’s well aware of what having control taken away feels like.

“Tony?” He asks quietly, the billionaire stopping in his tracks and turning with one foot out of the door to glance back at him.

“Is she alright?” Tony pauses, tilts his head to side and takes in Bucky's worried features with a look of contemplation, a look that says he's trying to figure him out as if he's a new gadget. Cogs turn in his head as he realizes despite previous knowledge that he is not the only one in the tower who truly loves Charlie, in a different way he suspects but loves nonetheless.   

“She will be”

-

He knocks on the wood frame even though the door is open and watches as Charlie lifts her head from her pillow and smiles sadly at him. She’s tangled with Tony, who spoons behind her and until his knock had been making small talk and jokes quietly in her ear. It’s strangely intimate and Bucky feels like he’s interrupted. He sees Tony lean into her ear and Charlie nods at whatever he’s asked; presumably if she’s alright with Bucky’s presence as he untangles his legs from hers and moves from the bed, leaving a kiss on her hair as he does so. He glances back at her before exiting the room.

Bucky stands awkwardly at the door and Charlie shuffles into a sitting position, locking eyes with him. Her usually bright orbs are rimmed with red and her skin is duller than normal.

“I’m really sorry”

He moves forward slowly with his arms out to the sides and she doesn’t startle, opening her arms and indicating to the bed, an invitation to sit. He obliges.

“You don’t need to apologize” He says as he sits on the edge, he swings his legs in one swift movement so they’re crossed under him, pleased that he’s taken to wandering around home in socks and not heavy boots. She lays a hand carefully on his shoulder as she sits beside him, bodies close but not touching more than necessary. She’s making an obvious effort to show him it’s not _his_ touch she is afraid of, that he is welcome but he won’t push.

“I do, I really am sorry James, I didn’t mean to freak you out” It’s the first time she’s used his first name since they met and he startles, “Sorry, Bucky”

“No, I like James, it’s alright. You don’t have to be sorry; I shouldn’t have pushed you into it”

She pauses, slow silence filling the room as he listens to a clock tick, he’s never noticed it before but now it’s almost deafening.

“I think Tony’s right. I need to know how to defend myself”

“You wanna talk about it?” He shuts his eyes tightly for a split second, preempting the hurt that comes with an insistence she is better without his company, his input.

“You mean you’ve not figured it out?” She chuckles darkly and he glances to his side to see a small smile has returned to her face; it’s comforting, reassuring, he doesn’t think he’s seen her without a smile for more than a few minutes in all the time he’s known her, she even smiles in her sleep.

“Pretty good idea, Doll”

“I uh, said I left in a hurry, I should have hurried quicker”

He turns his body to face her, looks her in the eyes and hopes his expression conveys what he feels, there’s sympathy sure, but also anger and most of all friendship. He keeps his voice low and doesn’t break eye contact, tries to keep the rage out of his voice lest she mistake it as being aimed at her.

“What did he do to you?”

She does break contact, shutting her eyes, pressing them together tighter than usual and almost chokes on her reply.

“Too much” Her answer is short, but the two words contain enough information to make him feel sick and he clenches his eyes shut as images flash through his mind, he sees her cowering, crying, being struck and he knows when he opens his eyes and looks at her, sees her eyes still closed, teeth biting into her bottom lip sharply that whatever he’s imagining probably doesn’t even come close.

“I stayed for too long”  She opens her eyes again to look at him and he can see them glistening, wants to lean forward and wrap his arms around her but there’s a new found wariness to their interaction.

“How long?”  She reaches her hands down to fiddle with the quilt on her bed, aimlessly trying to distract herself.

“Two years”

“Fuck”

“Everything but that actually” She doesn’t mean to say it, inhaling sharply at the words fly out, she throws her head back and lets out a deep, dark laugh and at that he does reach forward, wrapping his arms around his shoulders; she doesn’t struggle, resting her head against his collarbone. He lets her stay there, lingering against him as he revels now in the loud tick of the clock, warmth radiating from her against the ice in his chest that isn’t actually there.

“Why did you leave?”

“I don’t know” She sighs, dropping the quilt before thinking back to the night she left “There was no big epiphany, I was just…tired of being tired I guess, Andrew had gone out and I was sitting alone in the dark (she doesn’t add that she wasn’t allowed to turn the lights on, Andrew meticulously checking their electricity bill for even a penny overspending and one more than one occasion kicked the crap out of her for attempting to read a book whilst he was gone, bedside lit by a small lamp) and I just…I was tired. I called Tony and he got me a car and now I’m here”

“God bless Stark, eh?” He tries for light, breath whispering through her hair and she chuckles.

“Yeah, Christ he tried to convince me to leave for a year before that though” She pauses, sniffs and tries to blink away the tears “I know you have your differences and he’s difficult, but I’m pretty sure he saved my life”

She says it with such certainty that it stops his thought process for a good few seconds. He’s not an idiot, he knows how close they are, has gathered from living in the room next to her that some nights she sleeps in Starks bed, or Tony sleeps in hers and he doesn’t doubt that Tony is partly to thank for her being here but he’d never thought there was a possibility that here doesn’t just mean at the tower.

“I really am sorry about today” She mumbles against his collar, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“None of this is your fault, Doll”

He knows what guilt feels like, how it eats away at you, knows that he feels it in his bones for what he’d done whilst he wasn’t himself and he’ll be damned if he lets her feel it for something someone else did to her. He presses his cheek against the side of her head and mutters repeated declarations that she’s not to blame into her hair; wishing his words to sink through her skin and into her conscious.


End file.
